


Sacrament

by thisplace_ishaunted



Series: Chris/Ricky High School AU [1]
Category: Motionless in White (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Catholic School, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Religious Conflict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26001250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisplace_ishaunted/pseuds/thisplace_ishaunted
Summary: The two of them had a knack for getting themselves into trouble, sometimes accidentally, but usually on purpose.Or, in other words, Chris and Ricky are angsty teens that spend too much time listening to music and dreaming about skipping town.  Maybe one day, they will actually do it.
Relationships: Chris "Motionless" Cerulli/Ricky "Horror" Olson
Series: Chris/Ricky High School AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904458
Comments: 9
Kudos: 10





	Sacrament

**Author's Note:**

> Set 2004/5, Chris and Ricky's junior or senior year of high school. They are the same age in this and attend a private boy's Catholic school.
> 
> This was originally going to be blaspheme smut, but I fell in love with these AU boys and I couldn't bear to do it to them. They are too cute.
> 
> Let me know if yall would like more in this universe. I have some more ideas that I would love to pursue.

The dust in the air floated around Ricky’s hunched frame as he dug through one of the many cardboard boxes stuffed in the closet.  
“Obviously they don’t use this shit. It’s like it has been here for years,” Ricky described to Chris.   
The two of them had gotten in trouble, again. Apparently pulling into the student parking lot 20 minutes after school had begun was unacceptable. Never mind they had decided to chill in the car for another half-hour, blasting a Breaking Benjamin CD over the horrible sound system in Chris’ van. They had developed a habit of skipping the all-school mass before first period.  
They had eventually waltzed in, striped uniform ties hanging loose around their necks. The office was quick to assign them to an after-school punishment of cleaning out the dingy storage closet in the chapel. Maybe one day they’d learn, or maybe not. Probably not.  
The two of them had a knack for getting themselves into trouble, sometimes accidentally, but usually on purpose. Their routine of coming into school late, being out of uniform, or loitering in the hallway, each sharing an earbud of Ricky’s iPod, had earned them numerous punishments. At first, the disciplines were things like lunch or after-school detention, but the office had decided they might as well put their delinquent students to good work. Their tardiness this morning had landed them spending a few sweaty hours after school in the balcony of the chapel.  
“Do you just want to pull everything out here first? And then go through it?” Chris asked as Ricky continued to snoop into boxes, as if they weren’t about to completely dismantle and reorganize all this stuff anyways.  
“Sure,” Ricky answered, standing up and turning back towards Chris, exiting the closet. “Jeez, it is already getting hot up here.” Ricky removed his school blazer and tossed it on top of where Chris’ identical one was already laying over the organ bench.  
The back balcony of the chapel really was a cool sight, even to Chris. The huge, aging pipes of the organ were arranged around the organ itself. The only other thing up here was the storage closets built into the walls on either side. During the days that Chris did manage to make it to morning mass, he loved sneaking looks up here. The grandeur of the pipes was one of the only things he actually liked about being in such an intimidating and unwelcoming space. Well, the organ, and the huge hanging crucifix behind the altar at the front. An explicit looking Jesus, weeping and half dead, was supposed to make Chris feel _inspired?_ He didn’t get it, but he was as interested in ridiculous Catholic imagery as much as any other macabre seventeen year old.  
Chris began grabbing boxes and bins out of the closet, and dragging them out onto the balcony. The upset dust continued to swirl around him as he made trips in and out of the closet.   
With every pass back and forth out of the closet, Chris' anger simmered in his chest. He was stuck and felt forced into this stupid school with their stupid rules and their stupid fucking chapel that _he_ had to clean. He knew he didn’t belong here. Maybe at a regular high school, he would have fit in. He would have been able to find a whole group of friends who were into the same music he was and were equally as disinterested in comparing test scores on the last Pre-Cal exam. But at this school, he was stuck only with Ricky.   
Ricky was the only person who had even remotely the same interests as Chris. Rick seemed to practice his guitar even more than Chris did, and that was surprising considering how much time Chris spent holed up in his room with his grandfather’s Les Paul. In their stupid high school with it’s stupid perfect Catholic boys, they had found solace in one another since day one.   
Ricky shuffled through some of the items; a lot of it was church records and back stock of candles and lamp fluid. A few boxes were filled with dingy cassocks and clerical robes.  
Eventually, the closet was empty and the balcony was covered in it’s contents. Ricky had gone through some of the stuff, but there was still a lot to do.  
“Why are we doing this again?” Chris groaned, sweat had started to trickle down his back and soak through his shirt. His frustration was heightened by the heat, and Ricky looked the same, sweating through his dress shirt and his curls frizzier than ever.   
“Because Jesus. Duh.” Ricky pointed over his shoulder at the crucifix hanging across the nave from the balcony. With the lights dimmed inside the chapel, the face of the sculpture looked even creepier and more shadowy than usual.   
“I am just so sick of bullshit! None of this stupid stuff-“ Chris kicked one of the boxes filled with robes, “means anything!”  
Chris turned on his heels and re-entered the dim closet. He wanted to hide from the statues and the candles and the stupid saints in the stained glass windows.  
“Hey hey hey what are you saying?” Ricky stood up and followed Chris, abandoning the box he had been working on. Chris had slouched down the wall, knees bent and toes up against the opposing wall. Ricky sat down, opposite of him and next to Chris’ feet, but was able to more comfortably extend his legs.   
“Why are you so upset? We get in trouble all the time for stupid shit,” Ricky asked, his voice decreased in volume. Small spaces call for small voices, especially when Chris was less than a meter away.   
“It’s just… I…” Chris sighed. Ricky looked across from him, blinking and with his eyebrows turned down with empathy.   
“I hate that you are my only friend. I hate that all of my interests are invalid and I feel like I walk around with a sign on my forehead that says “freak” or something.  
“I know that I just need to get through this stupid school so I can graduate and then I can do what I want but it is so hard when everyone looks at me like I am fucking scum.  
“I just want to be able to do what I want to do and not get yelled at and demeaned because my tie isn’t tied right, or my shirt isn’t ironed enough, or because I don’t believe in all of these stupid saints that we have to pray to. None of it makes sense and I hate that this whole school treats me like _trash_ because I am not like them!  
“All of it makes me feel so upset and _sad_ and I feel like all I have is you and that is not fair to you. You can’t be the only person to deal with my shit. My life feels like it is _nothing_ because I have to go to this stupid school and pretend that I care about what God thinks of me.”  
Chris’ frustration had turned to anger and then to desperation. He knew Ricky liked him just the way he was. Chris even liked himself just the way he was. It was everyone else that had a problem with it.   
Chris’ hands clasped over his knees, and he stared at the wall opposite of him.  
“Music and guitar and shows and _you_ are the only things I care about. I don’t care about anything that _they_ want me to,” Chris gestured out the closet door. His hand fell back down and he found Ricky’s eyes.  
“I think all of those things make sense. You don’t think I feel trapped, too? Being in this place? My favorite parts of the day are when you pick me up in the morning. That’s why we are always late, because I don’t want to leave the van and our CDs and us pretending we are somewhere else far away from this fucking school, but it is really right outside. I _hate_ that.”   
As much as Chris had known Ricky felt the same way, it was nice to hear it. The two of them were the branded outcasts of the school, but at least they had one another.  
“I don’t want to finish with these boxes. Can I just hide in here forever?” Chris’ eyes looked heavy with frustration as he picked at his fingernails.  
“Here, I will be right back,” Ricky said as he stood, brushing the dust off the back of his pants. He exited the closet briefly before coming back with his iPod, unwrapping the earbuds from around it.  
“We can pretend we are halfway done with the boxes and take a break.” Ricky slid down the wall again, but this time sat right next to Chris. Ricky passed over an earbud and put one into his own ear, scrolling through his library before hitting shuffle on HIM’s Love Metal.  
“I’m exhausted, Rick. With everything. I don’t want to be here anymore.”  
“You know we could leave, right? We have your van.”  
“As much as I would love to run off with you and fulfill some road trip fantasy, I’d like to graduate high school first,” Chris responded with an exhaled chuckle.   
“Looks like we will just have to stick it out then,” Ricky turned to Chris, glancing between his eyes and his shoulder. “But as soon as we finish school, I am holding you to it. We are going to pack up our guitars and just leave. We can figure it out.”   
Chris still wasn’t sure if Ricky was kidding or not, but he wasn’t sure it mattered. Any daydream that got him away from this school was a good one.   
“Sounds like a plan,” Chris continued, only half joking.   
The song continued over the earbuds, but it might as well have been filling the air. The dinginess of the closet didn’t matter. Their still-looming punishment didn’t matter. The judgement and pressure and bullying didn’t matter because the two of them were sitting side by side. They would get out of there one day.  
Chris slouched a bit further down into the floor and rested his head on Ricky’s shoulder, his curls brushing against Chris’ face. They sat there for too long, neither one of them wanting to leave that space. Their chests rose and fell, and the two of them breathing the same air was more intimate than either of them would admit. 

_And I know my church is not of silver and gold_  
_Its glory lies beyond judgment of souls_  
_The commandments are of consolation and warmth_  
_You know our sacred dream won't fail_

**Author's Note:**

> Title and song quote are from HIM's The Sacrament, off of Love Metal.


End file.
